


The Pressures of Ruling a Kingdom

by MokiKaitlyn



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Adora doesn't know what alcohol is, Beverly is actually a nerd, Crack, Crack Crossover, Data & Entrapta fight me, F/M, First Contact, Gen, Geordi is a dork and we love him, Glimmer is trying to run a country, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, She-ra s5 spoilers, Shenanigans, Silly, Spaceships, post-canon She-ra, soft seahawk, the Enterprise is just here as an excuse to follow up on s5, they're all there they just didn't do anything interesting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MokiKaitlyn/pseuds/MokiKaitlyn
Summary: Etheria has just put itself back on the galactic map, literally, and attracted the attention of the Federation, which loves science almost as much as Entrapta. Adora gets into trouble, Seahawk turns out to be a decent diplomat, and Glimmer just wants a nap.
Relationships: Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46
Collections: Shera





	The Pressures of Ruling a Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> I know Guinan is only 300. Shhhhhhh.

First contact was always a rewarding mission. Invariably, one got to meet new people unlike anyone one has encountered before, and from a new culture ones own always has so much to learn. Picard did always enjoy first contact missions. 

Of course they weren’t always entirely pleasant. The initial beauty of two cultures meeting was often overshadowed by those two cultures negotiating treaties and trade agreements for a month. Some were better than others. Some just wanted to join the Federation, which made everything easier for Picard, mostly because he could hand those treaties off to actual diplomats. Other kinds of treaties he often had to negotiate himself.

“Etherea has not existed on the map for a thousand years,” Riker said in the briefing. “Local records claim it vanished after some kind of rupture in space time consumed the planet, forming a pocket dimension. They reappeared a few months ago and were immediately entangled in violent conflict with a local emperor, whom they overturned in the span of a week.”

Worf smiled grimly. “That conflict has been long and bloody. To end it so quickly, these people must be powerful warriors.”

“Indeed they must be,” Riker said, “and it seems they have been freeing every other system in their sector since then. It’s especially impressive for a society that possesses a grand total of one warp-capable starship.”

“They only have one starship?” Crusher asked. “And they beat an inter-planetary empire?”

“Not only that,” Riker added, “Their one ship is more than a thousand years old, from before their planet was sucked into the pocket dimension.”

LaForge whistled. “I’d like to see that ship.”

“So would we all, Mr. LaForge. How much longer until we reach the Etherean system, number one?” Picard asked.

“13 hours, commander.”

“Good. Riker, Counsellor, Mr. Worf, I want you all with me to meet the delegates in transporter room 1 when we arrive. Dismissed.”

When the delegates arrived, even Picard was surprised. Three women materialized on the transporter pad. Two of them were the size of an ordinary humanoid, the other must have been eight feet tall and carried a sword almost at tall as herself, though she couldn’t have been much older than Wesley. The young woman beside her, more normally sized for a human, seemed part feline, with long black claws and a stern gaze, and Picard made a mental note to determine how many different intelligent species lived on the planet.

Neither of these women turned out to be the leader, however, because the third, the youngest and smallest, stepped off the platform and offered Worf her hand to shake.

“Hello!” She said brightly, as she shook Worf’s hand too long. “You must be Jean-Luc Picard, captain of this vessel?”

Worf looked surprised. “No, I am lieutenant commander Worf, at your service. This is the captain,” he added, gesturing. Riker was trying hard to hide his amusement.

She turned and shook Picard’s hand, unfazed by her social gaff. “Oh. Hello, Jean-Luc. I am Queen Glimmer of Bright moon. These are my friends, Adora and Catra.”

The eight-foot-tall warrior princess waved cheerfully. The other only nodded.

“Well, hello, Adora and Catra,” Picard said, bowing slightly and wondering whether the feline-esque woman was actually named Catra or if the universal translator misinterpreted something, and if it was spelled with a C. “I am Captain Picard, and you have met Lieutenant Worf, my chief of security. This is my first officer, commander Riker, and my ship’s counsellor, lieutenant commander Deanna Troi. Would you like to be shown to your quarters? Dinner will be in two hours, and we can begin negotiations—“

The Queen vanished in a puff of pink sparkles and Picard audibly gasped. She reappeared in an instant on Worf’s arm. “We would love to be shown to our quarters, please take us there. We also would like to be shown the warp engine and your hologram software, both of which have been spoken very highly of. I also want a nap.”

Glimmer began to march out of the room, still on Worf’s arm, and her associates followed her without question.

“Yes it’s nice to meet all of you!” the tall one said. We’ll see you all at dinner!”

Catra said nothing, but grinned at them and took Adora’s arm on the way out. She had fangs.

“Yes will you please show them their quarters, lieutenant Worf,” the captain said weakly as they left. Worf only looked moderately uncomfortable, so he let it happen.

Picard turned back to Riker and Troi, who were both smiling insufferably.

“Is it just me, or are they all children?” the captain asked.

“The oldest of them is sixteen,” Troi said, grinning.

Picard nodded. “And the queen...she...”

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘sparkles,’ Captain,” Riker volunteered, helpfully.

The captain nodded.

* * *

Despite her age, the queen turned out to be a ferocious negotiator. She had no intention of joining the Federation, and Catra seemed deeply offended at the offer. They valued their autonomy, it seemed. It transpired that Queen Glimmer was not sovereign over the whole planet, but merely the head of an alliance of sovereign city-states, all of which had such perfect confidence in their autonomy that they did not object to Queen Glimmer speaking for all of them. At least that’s how Troi understood it. At least Glimmer didn’t seem worried they would disagree, and neither Adora nor Catra claimed to represent any other party’s interests. (Picard did wonder if it was appropriate to call these two by their first names, especially once he learned that Adora was a princess, or possibly a “she-ra,” and that Catra was some kind of general. He would have ascribed it to a strangeness in their society, except that they referred to some members of their own families by titles, and that Picard was growing increasingly worried that these young women had no adults in their life whatsoever and may not know what kinds of respect their own culture entitled them to.)

They had reasonably clear ideas of what they wanted from an alliance: resources to make more warp-capable starships. They did not ask for help making them, weapons to arm them, or even schematics for better warp drives than their own 1000 year old ship. Troi thinks it may not have occurred to them to ask for any of these things, although their one ship was a masterpiece of engineering by itself, and was not really compatible with federation technology.

Glimmer was adamantly opposed to offering up any of her own planet’s resources in exchange, with the possible exception of some sort of mutual defense treaty, where the federation would offer warships and Etherea would offer...just the She-ra. Tall as she was, Picard found it hard to believe she had single handedly liberated this whole sector. Picard, of course, was not asking for her planet's resources, and found her defensiveness hard to navigate.

Glimmer’s stubbornness nearly brought the negotiations to a halt until Catra, the person Picard least expected to, calmed her down. That happened over dessert the first night, after negotiations had grown rather heated over a misunderstanding Picard couldn't seem to correct.

“No!” Glimmer shouted. “I will not give Etherea’s magic to anyone else! That’s how we got into this mess in the first place! We will come fight with you and save people on their own planets but we will not give up our magic! We just got it back!” She was crying, and she choked on a sob as Catra lept up and caught both her hands.

“GLIMMER. SPARKLES. Calm down, okay?” She turned to the table without letting go. “Please excuse us for a moment.” The two of them vanished in a puff of sparkles once again and left Adora alone among the senior staff.

Adora waved awkwardly. “They’ll be back. Glimmer is just testy. We’ve been at war our whole lives and it’s only just now over, she has a hard time seeing that people aren’t trying to take over her kingdom.”

“That is understandable,” Data said kindly, as everyone else struggled to process these strange newcomers. Adora smiled at him.

"Thanks, Data." 

Three minutes of near-silence later, the Queen and her general(?) reappeared. This time it was Catra who spoke.

“Etherea will be happy to admit scientists to do research on our planet, with the goal of understanding it, as long as they share what they learn with us, contribute to research that specifically betters our society, take nothing of ours off the planet without permission, are subject to our laws and customs, and are willing to answer to Princess Entrapta of Dryl, who will want to be consulted on all science conducted on Etherea.”

“We would not dream of doing otherwise,” the captain said.

“Then it sounds like we can work together,” Catra said, smiling almost non-threateningly.

The negotiations went much more smoothly after that.

* * *

Guinan knew Mara, once upon a time. She’d met her at a bar once when she got thrown out for having cheated at a drinking contest, and they’d had a lovely long night together discussing galactic politics. They’d been about the same age then.

She recognized Adora as Mara's successor when she walked into her bar, towering over lieutenant Worf as he was leaving. He gave her a deep bow of respect, which she returned a little clumsily. She-ra came to sit at the bar. Guinan signed to a waiter to make themself busy and poured the Princess of Power a tall glass of an Andorian wine that Mara had loved.

“What’s this?” Adora said, sniffing it.

“Just try it, I think you’ll like it.”

She took a cautious sip and coughed on it. Guinan raised her eyebrows.

“It’s kinda strong, isn’t it??” she said, still reeling.

“It’s synthale. How old are you?”

“16?”

“Do they still have drinking laws on your planet?”

Adora looked confused. “Like, laws about when you can drink? Why would you need that? There’s no shortage of water, though maybe in the crimson waste...”

Guinan took the glass away and replaced it with a fruit punch.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘still’?” Adora said, taking the new cup with some suspicion. “Do you already know about Etherea?”

Guinan smiled and sipped the abandoned wine. “Spent a few summers there once upon a time, with a friend of mine.”

Adora paused with her drink halfway to her mouth. “...is everyone here that old?”

“Just me. Your secrets are safe.”

Adora wasn’t really sure what “secrets” she could be referring to, but decided not to ask.

“Lieutenant Worf seemed to know you back there, have you met?”

“Oh yes! He and I are gonna have a fight later, he wants to know how strong I am, and he thinks he can teach me something about sword fighting.”

“Now that is a fight I’d like to see. Something tells me even Worf may not be a match for the Princess of Power.”

Adora laughed, and took another sip, which she promptly choked on. “Wait—what did you call me?”

Guinan smiled mischievously. “As I said, your secrets are safe with me.” And she left the bewildered princess alone with her punch.

* * *

Glimmer was pleased with how the negotiations were going. These people were very kind and fair, and their requests weren’t at all unreasonable, once she started listening. Still, they were all much older than her, and though she knew they were doing their best and had been nothing but professional, she still felt like she knew a little better how Frosta must feel among the other princesses: like she constantly had to prove herself and her ability to a room full of people who couldn’t help but feel she may not be up to the task.

She flopped on the bed in the quarters she’d been assigned. Negotiations were good, but exhausting. Tomorrow began the first of the arrangements they’d made with the Federation: taking several of their officers on a tour of the planet.

As she lay on the bed trying to think of what to do with herself, the communicator Bow had given her beeped and she sprang back up again with new energy.

“Glimmer! Hi!” Bow said as she answered the comm [ipad?]. he was waving at her from the kitchen at Bright Moon. “Thought you’d like to know how the upgrades to the city’s water main are going!”

“PLEASE tell me about the water supply, Bow, anything other than trade agreements or treaties.”

The two spent a happy hour and a half talking before Glimmer fell sound asleep.

* * *

Adora and Worf had their sparring match scheduled for 0530 hours. Catra didn’t show up to watch until 6, (even the Horde didn’t make us start training before 6, Adora.) and by the time Glimmer popped in at 7, there was already a small crowd of onlookers gathered.

She-ra had almost 2 feet on Worf, and, as was established earlier that morning, could lift between 100 and 250 pounds more than him, depending how you measure. But Worf was older than her, and was a trained fighter in many hand-to-hand combat styles, and while Adora had half-decent training herself, the Horde mostly taught infantry combat, and Light Hope had only trained her the in very specific art of blowing up robots by means of a large sword. In a hand to hand fight, they were more or less evenly matched, though Adora was pronounced the winner about the time Catra came in.

Since then it had been a duel, Klingon batleth against the sword of power. Here Adora had much to learn from a real swordsman,and their fight alternated from fast, violent conflict to a lesson in basic forms and stances, and was often both at once. It was quite the match to watch, and both were terrifying warriors in their own ways; Worf’s swordsmanship was an art form in itself, anyone could see that, and She-Ra in action is always an impressive sight. Despite her height advantage, she rarely got the best of him, and he rarely got a challenge like this. They both seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. The show would have been mesmerizing if he didn’t keep breaking the flow of combat with swordsmanship lessons.

When Glimmer showed up, Worf was teaching her how to disarm him by catching her sword in his batleth and using the leverage to throw her to the ground repeatedly, all the while chastising her about something she was doing wrong with her feet and hopping out of range of her sword’s formidable reach when she tried to recover.

Glimmer found Catra in the watching crowd. She had her arms folded and was frowning at the match, arms and back bristling.

“Hey, Catra, any idea when they’ll be done?”

“They’ve been at it for almost two hours so who knows,” she said, testily.

Glimmer turned her attention back to the match as Adora finally managed to knock the batleth down. Her victory was short lived, as Worf kicked her in the knees as he fell, and was back up before she was. Catra hissed beside her.

“Idiot can’t even dodge an obvious move—GET HIM ADORA!” she yelled, as Adora charged at him again. He parried her off without effort and Catra hissed again.

Glimmer smiled as she caught on.

“Catra are you...are you jealous?”

She whipped around to face her. “WHAT?” she shrieked, voice cracking. “I AM NOT—“ she stopped when some people turned to look at her, and she resumed in a whisper. “I am not _jealous,_ she’s just bad at following instructions and he’s—“

“He’s a reeeaallly good fighter, and that growl he makes when he’s concentrating—“

“What do you WANT, Sparkles?” Catra growled back.

Glimmer smirked, satisfied. “I need you to help commander Riker decide on Etherea’s personnel compliment on their new space station in this sector.

Catra turned in surprise, making real eye contact for the first time today, tension suddenly gone. “Are we actually getting a space station? With ships??”

“If you’ll go put people on it. You can even command it yourself if you want.”

“Ew no I hate space. But this is so cool!” She bounded up onto an exercise mat and exited the room more or less on all fours. “Tell Adora not to die!!” she yelled over her shoulder, jealousy forgotten.

Adora was having the time of her life twirling with a sword and pretending it was training, so Glimmer left her to get ready for her next task.

* * *

By the time Worf and Adora left the training deck to attend to other responsibilities, Adora had been declared one of the “worthiest warriors” Worf had ever met, and had been invited to participate in some sort of tournament he was hosting in a few months.

No longer She-ra, Adora was shown to the engineering deck, where she met Geordi and Data again, and listened to them explain how the warp core worked, which was about the same as how Horde Prime’s ships functioned, so that wasn’t very new to her. She turned out to be much more interesting to them than they were to her.

“Can you transform back and forth whenever you want?” Geordi asked with fascination.

“Umm, more or less,” Adora said nervously. “Sometimes it doesn’t work.”

Data was examining her curiously from a respectful distance. “And you can do this whether or not you are on your home planet, in the presence of what you call magic.”

“Yeah that doesn’t seem to affect whether I can or not. It matters for Glimmer though.”

“Even in your normal form you seem to attract all kinds of weird particles that don’t behave normally around you,” Geordi said, adjusting his visor.

“Yeah that seems to happen. I don’t understand it. It used to only work around my sword, but that broke when the rift opened, and I got a new one, I guess made out of magic? It’s definitely stronger than my old one though, and my old one couldn’t shoot lasers, which is fun. Or make trees grow or heal people, and I can do all that now.”

“Wanna find out why?” Geordi asked, all other responsibilities completely forgotten.

“Sure!”

Geordi tapped the pin on his uniform, which beeped. “LaForge to Dr. Crusher: Beverly, do you have time to help us with a science project?”

The doctor’s voice came back from the pin, sounding amused. “I’m on my way, Geordi.”

A few minutes later Crusher, LaForge, and Data were in a laboratory near engineering, all pointing small computers at Adora.

“Okay Adora,” Geordi said with excitement. “Do your thing.”

Adora held her hand up to the ceiling, wondering if the room was tall enough for her transformed self to swing a sword over her head.

“For the honor...of Grayskull!” she yelled, louder than necessary.

Gold light transformed her hair and clothes as her sword appeared in the air. She only had to hold it a little lower than normal to avoid the ceiling.

When she opened her eyes Dr. Crusher was gaping at her.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. You’ve accumulated a good hundred pounds of mass and I can’t even tell where it’s come from. Your entire physiology is different.”

“Isn’t it exciting, Doctor?” Geordi said. “I think it’s just from random particles in the air that she’s actually converting into carbon and water and such.”

“But there aren’t a hundred pounds of particles in just this room. She’s got to be converting energy.”

Data spoke up. “There does seem to have been a significant power drain in this room when she transformed, Doctor.”

“Adora,” the doctor said, looking up from her tricorder and stepping closer. “Do you feel tired when you transform back?”

“Oh yeah all the time. I sleep for hours.”

“A humanoid of your age should have to sleep for hours regularly, regardless of physical activity,” Data volunteered. “At least nine hours daily is normally required for humanoid adolescents who have not reached full maturity.”

Crusher raised her eyebrows at the warrior princess, who blushed and scratched her head. Satisfied with the bashfulness, the doctor moved on.

“Is it harder to transform when you’re already tired, or maybe when you’re distracted?”

Adora was startled. “Uh yeah? That was a huge problem at the end of the war. I couldn’t transform at several points when I needed to.”

Data cocked his head. “What permits transformation when you have already failed? Does significant adrenaline trigger it?”

“Um, no, it’s actually harder when I panic. It seems to be when the magic decides I have to, or when I manage to focus in the middle of panic.”

“Not surprising,” Crusher said, looking back at her tricorder. “The amount of energy your body is using is massive, and while it is remarkably efficient at using environmental energy instead of internal, it still must be exhausting and require an intense amount of focus, even if you don’t recognise yourself doing it.”

Geordi was still taking measurements of something or other, and seemed delighted at what he was finding. “It’s almost like the magic has its own consciousness, and follows you around even off your planet!”

“That would make sense. It chose me, and keeps asking me to do stuff.”

Crusher’s communicator beeped.

“Bridge to Dr. Crusher! If you all are done with your science projects, She-Ra has been requested for the away team mission.”

“Understood.” She tapped her comm. “Well. I look forward to learning more, and to going over the data we’ve just gotten. In the meantime,” she put a hand on Adora's giant shoulder. “Get some _sleep_. You can’t defy all known laws of biology without enough sleep.”

“Yes ma'am." Adora said, detransforming.

Crusher smiled at her happily and left for sickbay, while Data stood up and politely offered his arm. She hesitated to take it in confusion.

“I can escort you to the transporter room if you prefer, She-Ra, as I am also going to study the planet’s surface.”

She took his arm. Must be an odd social quirk of his people.

* * *

By the time the Enterprise’s away team was ready for their tour of the planet, the compliment of Enterprise personnel had changed five times, and gone from consisting of a small portion of the senior staff to an entire team of researchers. Glimmer had been more than happy to permit the Federation’s polite interest in science on their planet, but she hadn’t counted on the fact that she’d have to be the one to lead the research team. Luckily, Catra handled all the logistics very smoothly, and Glimmer could leave most of the scientists with Entrapta and Adora once they got to the planet. Bow had promised a movie night, just the two of them, and with cake, once she was finished. With luck, that would be in two days.

The first problem happened before they even left the ship, when the curly-haired gentleman at the controls asked for “coordinates” to beam to. She ended up calling Bow, and Bow had to talk to Mr. O’Brien until they came to an agreement, and the whole party beamed onto the platform underneath the moonstone.

“So!” Glimmer said. “This is Bright Moon, and that stone there is the moonstone!”

Most of the gathered scientists were pointing those little computers at it, gaping and whispering to each other.

Catra squeezed past some people and made it next to her.

“How long until we can hand them all off to Entrapta?” she hissed in her ear.

“Hours.” She sighed.

Just then, Scorpia and Bow arrived.

“Greetings, folks!” Bow said, spreading his arms. “Welcome to our humble planet!” He took Glimmer’s hand as he passed and squeezed it, but otherwise didn’t address her. “I’m here to show you around bright moon! Right this way, everyone!”

“Yep! Everybody come this way, lots of cool things to see in Bright Moon,” Scorpia added, gesturing with her claws.

As the last of the crowd exited the platform and Glimmer wondered if she could sneak away, Perfuma appeared looking distinctly apologetic.

“Glimmer, I know you’ve had a long day already, but some of the people in the village are arguing over which street the aqueduct should run down and they need your help...”

Glimmer sighed deeply, put a hand on Perfuma, and both women vanished.

* * *

Later that day, the enterprise crew, including Data, Wesley, and fourteen other scientists whose names Bow was trying to learn, along with Scorpia, Spinarella, and Netossa were piled into the back of a repurposed Horde van on their way to drill. The others had been left at Bright Moon to continue negotiations. Bow had meticulously repainted this van into the royal colors of Bright Moon a few weeks ago, with the help of Seahawk, Wrong Hordak, and some new friends from the Horde. They had painted 30 of these vans and distributed them among all the princesses in the rebellion who wanted one. It had been great bonding time.

The van pulled up to the castle at Dryl after far too long a drive, just as Riker was beginning to ask if it would have been better for the enterprise to beam them over, interrupting the excellent conversation Bow had been having with Wesley about archery.

“YOU'RE HEEEERRRREEEE” Entrapta screamed, throwing the van doors open with her hair. “And you brought an ANDROID!” she shrieked, climbing over an ensign to examine Data. “You have a face! And hands!!”

“I am designed to resemble a human in all aspects.”

“And you TALK! I’m Entrapta, what’s your name?”

“I am Data. It is nice to meet you, Entrapta.”

Entrapta giggled. “Oh I love Data, it’s my favorite thing. I made a PUN! Bow did you hear that??”

Bow laughed. “Yeah I did, Entrapta, it was a good one! Do you want to introduce yourself to the rest of the scientists?”

Entrapta turned to the crowd of blue and yellow scientists, most of which had escaped the van.

“Are all of you scientists??”

“Most of us are,” Wesley volunteered. "Are you Princess Entrapta? I’m Wesley Crusher.” He extended a hand to shake hers.

She took it with her hair and shook it like she was trying to find lost coins in it, And shook three other peoples unoffered hands at the same time. “Yes I am, it’s nice to meet you Wesley! Let’s go everyone! We’re going to have so much fun!“

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and Bow turned to see Hordak standing in the path to the castle, holding a box.

“Oh right!!” Entrapta said. “Hordak made everyone tiny cookies that look like your ship! Or at least what I could see of your ship from the ground!”

The cookies were a perfect miniature replica of the Enterprise, except that they were white and not silver. Impressive with only radar and a telescope. Entrapta had them handed out in seconds, and Hordak seemed pleased with himself.

“Now! On to science!!” And she set off to climb the hill, cookie in hand.

* * *

Riker, Troi, and Dr. Crusher had been left at bright moon to meet some of the other leaders of this planet, the governance of which still baffled them. They met there Mermista of Salineas and her boyfriend, (a...pirate...), Castaspella of Mystacore, and King Micah of Bright Moon, who, it seems, did not outrank his daughter.

After dinner, Crusher offered to take a look at their medical facilities to see if she could offer suggestions or supplies, which Glimmer accepted a little desperately, and dragged her three favorite advisors out with her. The poor kid had won a war and had to now run a country and a planet at the age of fourteen, and Riker didn’t envy her that. He didn’t want her job now. It was comforting to learn that there were at least some adults in these girls’ lives, and that while Mermista was still quite young, she was at least a legal adult.

Micah and Castaspella retired after dinner as well, claiming they had a lot of work to do, which Riker didn’t doubt. They seemed to be updating every aspect of their society in the wake of a war, and the queen had just added the additional project of renovating the hospital system.

“Well! That leaves us to entertain you two!” Seahawk said, wiping his face delicately. His girlfriend was leaning back into his arm happily, and she hummed in agreement.

“What do you say about going out for drinks?” He said, as a spherical robot entered the room and started clearing plates.

Riker was going to answer but was distracted by the robot. It dropped two plates on the floor before it figured out how to stack them in a way it could carry, at which point it tried to put the stack on its round head, which ended in another crash. Mermista and Seahawk continued to smile at him, apparently unbothered by the number of dishes the robot was breaking.

“Um, sure,” Riker started, still worried about the robot. “Should we, ah, help clear the table?”

“Oh no,” Seahawk said. “Emily likes to feel useful, she’ll be upset if we doubt her competence. She’s getting much better at it, isn’t she, darling?”

“She hasn’t spilled any water yet at least.”

Emily buzzed happily.

Troi put a hand on his arm, and he let it be.

“What kind of drinks are we talking about here?” Riker asked.

“The alcoholic kind!” Seahawk yelled, leaping onto the table. Mermista moved gracefully out of his way as he jumped, as though she anticipated such an outburst, even as he knocked the table hard enough to spill a few drinks, to Emily’s evident distress. Mermista quietly mopped it up with magic and Emily calmed down.

Riker laughed at the whole display, and could feel Troi smiling behind him.

“We were led to believe your people didn’t have that kind of drink.”

Mermista groaned for an impossibly long time. “Was it Adora?”

Riker smiled. “Probably it was. Is she subject to drinking laws or something?”

Seahawk looked pensive. “Did we ever have drinking laws, dearest?”

“We did,” she said, pushing her chair into the table and moving a stack of plates onto a trolly where Emily couldn’t see her. “Back when we still had laws. I’m considering reinstating them just to preserve Adora’s innocence, even though I hate laws. Let’s go, seabird.”

Mermista and Seahawk took them to a nice looking bar at the border between Bright Moon and Salineas. Local alcohol turned out to be mostly a little thick, sweet, and weirdly bitter, more like Vulcan wine than anything else, though not nearly as strong. Perhaps like spiked sweet tea.

“You said you hate laws?” Troi asked when they had all sat down with their drinks.

“My Mermista is an anarcho-monarchist,” Seahawk volunteered proudly. “She believes the purest form of government is one where she is the supreme ruler and doesn’t have to do anything about it.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very organized system,” Riker said, wondering again about the age of all the authority figures, and whether this one in particular had ever had significant adults in her life.

Mermista did clarify. “I only govern twelve hundred people, it’s easier to just talk to them when there are problems than to try and make laws about it. They all like me well enough, though the stars know why. My children can make laws if they need them after I’m dead, if the population ever returns to pre-war levels.” She took a large gulp of her drink.

“I do love it when you talk about politics, dearest,” Seahawk said, gooey-eyed.

Deanna cleared her throat, wisely changing the subject away from either the unorthodox political decisions of a 20-year-old monarch or the devastation of war. “So do your people dance at bars or just talk?”

Seahawk brightened instantly, and Mermista gave a deep sigh that turned into a groan “Do we ever!” he yelled, pulling Mermista from her chair and producing a rose from nowhere. “Let’s show them how it’s done!” he yelled, and turned to the band. “Band! The Seaweed Spinster, if you will!"

Mermista groaned again in his arms, louder and more annoyed, but when Seahawk let go of her she made no move to sit back down either. He stepped away and they struck identical poses beside each other while they waited for the band to start. All eyes in the bar were gradually turning on them.

They danced a beautiful, wild line dance to the song that began, moving their feetin excellent synchrony, although it was obvious Mermista was the better dancer. It was a beautiful, energetic line dance: not too fast, but still engaging and impressive.

Various other patrons of the bar got up to join them in the line. It was obviously a well known dance. Riker and Troi both stepped in when the pattern had repeated a few times and they thought they could get it.

Once most of the bar had joined the music changed, getting slightly faster. Riker tried to keep up for another 32 bars or so, about how long the step pattern lasted, before he surrendered and stepped out, only to find that Seahawk had already done so. He was clapping and stomping in time, on the sides, and so Riker joined him.

It got harder and faster as it went on and others dropped out too. Every round of the dance the tempo picked up again, and people would drop out when they couldn’t keep up.

Eventually the last two standing were Mermista and Troi, who had taken to the dance remarkably well. People cheered and whistled the two of them on, nearly drowning out the music, as they both kept up the increasingly difficult footwork.

After two rounds, Troi surrendered. Everyone applauded her, and Mermista finished the round by herself, having the time of her life. She bowed low when the music stopped.

“Victory again!” Seahawk yelled, bringing the victor some kind of blue drink. “And you were excellent, Miss Troi.” He handed her one also, and Riker wondered if it was alcohol or water.

“That was fantastic!” Troi said, happy with herself. “I haven’t gotten to dance like that since I was on my own home planet.”

“Salineas is well known for its excellent dancing,” Seahawk volunteered. “And for its dancing queen!” he added, kissing her on the mouth. She draped herself on his shoulder when he pulled away and he seemed happy to support her, holding her waist with his free hand. “More? Is it time for more dances?” he called.

“Oh, certainly,” said Troi, “but after another drink, and these shoes might have to go.”

Seahawk nodded at her, as the band started to play something more moderately tempoed. He began to sway gently, still holding Mermista.

“Another drink for our guest,” he called, gesturing to Troi, “and another round for everyone, on the princess!”

Mermista smiled a little in his shoulder and hugged him tighter as the crowd cheered. He kissed her head.

The band picked up and Seahawk set his drink down, pulling Mermista into the dance by her hips. She took another sip and set her drink down too, falling into something like a two-step with him.

Riker smiled at troi as she sat down. Someone brought her an orange martini-thing and she thanked them.

“You are an excellent dancer,” he said as she took her shoes off.

“You know, Will, this is the first planet we’ve been to since my cousin’s wedding that actually knew how to dance.”

He smiled. “Not even Risa?”

She scoffed. “Please, that’s not _real_ dancing.” She looked back at the dance floor. “This is much more like it.”

He followed her gaze. Mermista twirled Seahawk across the floor, where he struck an unnecessarily dramatic pose.

“They are a sweet couple,” she said.

Riker took another sip of his drink. “I worry about her leadership policies.”

Deanna looked sad. “She is doing her best. She’s just one girl in charge of a war-ravaged country, and she loves her people very deeply. They’ve been living hand to mouth her whole life, and she hasn’t felt the need to impose laws on a people who have been through so much together. She lacks confidence in her own judgement, and hands decisions over to the elders of her people when she can.”

Riker softened a bit. “Well. That sounds like it demonstrates good judgement to me.”

She sighed and took another swing of the drink, which tasted like Fanta-flavored black tea. It was almost good. Almost.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand across the table. “I think I can two step to this, even if it is on a 17-tone scale.”

Troi laughed and he pulled her onto the floor.

Later that night, Seahawk took them back to Bright Moon and handed them over to a guard, who brought them to a guest room that she felt compelled to apologize for. It seemed like a decent room. She said it was still being “renovated,” and asked them to ignore the forcefield in the middle. They never learned what that was about. Their lodgings were perfectly comfortable.

Meanwhile, Seahawk brought Mermista, who’d fallen asleep in the car, to the drawing room they’d used for meetings during the war. It was the only room in Bright Moon he was sure he could intrude on, though he was pretty sure Mermista had a bunk somewhere in the palace. He didn’t know where and it was two in the morning. He set her on the couch and covered her with a throw blanket.

She had so much on her shoulders, and he loved how well she bore it. Despite her reputation for complaining and apathy, she cared about her people so deeply, and never complained once about her actual responsibilities, hiding her stress under a veneer of trivial annoyance. He brushed her hair out of her face and she smiled in her sleep. Seahawk really hoped the end of the war would mean the prosperity she’d never dared to dream of for her people.

She mumbled something in her sleep that sounded less like smiles and more like murder, and Seahawk chucked faintly.

“Sleep well, my princess.”

He flopped on an armchair on the other end of the room and went to sleep.

* * *

Bow came back from Dryl the next morning alone to find Glimmer, Adora, Catra, and Dr. Crusher in the palace hospital, taking inventory and moving furniture around. Adora had most of a filing cabinet on top of her, Catra laughed at her, and Glimmer, apparently not involved, was re-hanging the curtains. It was a mess, but Bow suspected it was a more well-stocked mess than it had been in centuries.

“Hey Glimmer,” he called into the mess. “Can I borrow you?”

She appeared in the doorway. The curtain rod crashed to the ground.

“Bow! You’re back early!!”

“Yeah! They don’t really need my help, Entrapta has everything under control, and Netossa and Spinarella have taken care of lodgings. They’re all having way too much fun. I think Worf is nervous about how much fun they’re having.”

Dr. Crusher laughed at him.

“You may have trouble getting your android back, Dr. Crusher,” Bow said. “And your engineering chief. And also your son.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she said, making the replicator generate a case of something, and turning to put it on a shelf. “I can’t say Iblame them, your planet is the most interesting one we’ve seen in a long time.”

“It is magical,” Bow said, hoping someone else thought his pun was clever.

“I think,” Glimmer said, getting way too in his face, “that if neither of us is specifically needed you promised me a movie night all by our selves.”

“Glimmer it’s 11 am.”

She was making puppy eyes at him.

“Go on you two,” Dr. Crusher called. “Bow, I think your queen gave you instructions.”

Glimmer gave him a positively malicious smirk and Bow did not know how to respond to any of that.

“Catra, Adora, you two should run along too. I’ll leave some instructions with your staff and they can take it from here. I need to get back to the enterprise anyway.”

She-Ra, no longer Adora, was still engaged in righting the filing cabinet that was taller than even she was. It landed with a thud just as Catra jumped on it, knocking She-Ra and the cabinet to the floor. Detransformed Adora was pinned to the floor, now by Catra instead of the cabinet. Catra cackled.

“Hey!” Adora yelled. “Not fair!”

“Make sure you eat lunch,” Crusher yelled as they chased each other out. “And don’t forget what I said about sleeping!!”

“Did you tell them to sleep more?” said Bow, immediately deciding he adored this woman. “Thank you!!”

“Let’s hope they do it.” She closed her own bag and handed a data pad to a guard. “Do everything on that list, and radio the starbase if you need them.”

“Yes sir.” The guard walked off with the pad.

“Your majesty, thank you for introducing me to your beautiful city. It’s been lovely to meet you, and I hope we meet again soon.” She offered glimmer her hand to shake, and Glimmer took it.

“You too, Dr. Crusher, thank you so much for your help.”

“And you Bow. It’s been nice to meet you too. Make sure those girls get some sleep. They can’t save the world if they aren’t sleeping enough.”

“Yes sir, I will!”

She smiled at them and headed off down the hall.

“Now,” Glimmer said, when the doctor was gone, “I think I deserve ice cream.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Glimmer grinned again.

* * *

The treaty ended up being mutually beneficial for all parties. A handful of Etherians, many of them ex-Horde, whether clones or not, volunteered to serve on the Federation’s nearby space station, and the compliment of Etherian ships grew from one ancient vessel to fifteen copies of it. There was almost always a group of Federation scientists in Dryl, assisting Entrapta with her work. She relished being in charge of people who were as eager to learn as she was, and they got lots of science done. LaForge, Data, and Wesley made excuses to stay in Dryl for five whole days before Picard and Crusher finally ordered them to come back.

The send off party was held in Bright Moon. There was no alcohol, possibly because the queen was fourteen and at least one of her associates didn’t know what it was. It answered Riker’s questions about whether Seahawk was just always like that. He was. If anything the alcohol calmed him down. He performed half a ballad on top of a table before Queen Glimmer appeared on the table and knocked him off with one deft punch.

Picard tells Glimmer before they all leave that she is the most promising young ruler he has met. King Micah confirms this loudly, but his daughter only blushes. Seahawk takes this as a good reason to perform a whole song in her honor.

The Etherians do very well with their independence on the galactic stage, especially once their magic guardian starts going to bed on time.

**Author's Note:**

> This could probably be way longer if I had more patience. I think that Data, Entrapta, Wesley, and Geordi probably have a whole lot of fun together, and also that everyone loves Adora, especially Crusher and Data. Catra and Worf would be such great friends. Would spend most of their friendship arguing loudly because they agree on no fundamental values but they'd love it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Thanks to my sister, who graciously Betad. All remaining errors are probably things she caught that I didn’t bother to fix.


End file.
